CRT Ch 8

“If the CEO says no once, it’s over, so brace yourself.”

Director Kwak had spent three hours trying to persuade the CEO, but he reportedly failed to change his mind. Since they hadn’t anticipated the contract approval being rejected, Seok Ryu and Yejun fell into a panic. Director Kwak also seemed flustered. More shocking than anything was the realization that Cha Yilhyun was not just a figurehead CEO. In the end, no article about Yejun’s exclusive contract was released. Yejun gave a bitter smile, saying at least he no longer had to worry about malicious comments.

Seok Ryu stayed up all night, unable to sleep. If things continued this way, not only would the contract fall through, but they might also be evicted from the officetel. Could the physical reactions he experienced every time he met Cha Yilhyun have been a warning of such events? Just as he resolved to give up on him, Cha Yilhyun gave him a reason not to.

The next morning, while staying at the officetel, Seok Ryu massaged Yejun’s eyes with a warm pack. Yejun, lying on the sofa, chattered about the articles he had searched all night.

“Jo Namheon and Kim Jiyul are the leads! To think I’m playing a rival to Jo Namheon…”

Thankfully, Director Kwak also brought good news. Songhyul was producing a drama based on the hit webtoon Green Tea and Macchiato, and they wanted to cast Yejun as the supporting male lead. Yejun, who had been on the verge of giving up, barely clung to life with this news.

“Are they famous?”

“Originally, Lee Taeon, Yoon Inoh, and Kim Kyubin were Songhyul’s top three, but Jo Namheon is rising fast. They all started as supporting male leads and hit it big… Kim Jiyul came from an idol background but is doing well after switching to acting.”

Yejun showed a photo of the leads and lowered his voice.

“Jo Namheon and Kim Jiyul are openly dating, and they often appear in dramas together. They’ve been together since high school—don’t they ever get tired of seeing each other even at work?”

Seok Ryu smiled softly and jotted notes in his notebook. Since this was a pivotal moment for Yejun, he needed to research the webtoon Green Tea and Macchiato. Yejun suddenly sat up, his forehead and eyelids red from the warm pack.

“We haven’t even signed a formal contract—what if the casting falls through?”

“For now, we have no choice but to trust Director Kwak and wait. I’ll do my best, so please be patient.”

No matter how life-changing an opportunity this was, Yejun trembled with anxiety, bound by the lack of a contract. Chewing his lips, Yejun glanced at Seok Ryu.

“You said it’s the power of the guardian stone, but in the end, we’re relying on others. Is there any master who’s been as patient with you as I have?”

“That’s why I’m always grateful.”

For pulling Seok Ryu out of hell and letting him stay by his side, Yejun was incomparable to anyone else.

In any case, nothing could move forward without dealing with the CEO. Strictly speaking, Seok Ryu’s success rate at persuasion was 100 percent—because he kept trying until he succeeded. Facing a formidable opponent ignited a spark of determination in him after a long time.

Having received shocking news right after moving in, Seok Ryu had no time to adjust to the new environment. To cheer up the dejected Yejun and get some food, they set out to explore the palace-like complex.

The twin buildings were connected by a glass bridge. One of the buildings was entirely used as a dormitory for Songhyul’s actors. Mysterious statues stood here and there, and a spiral staircase stretched up in the center. The structure and decorations somehow resembled the atmosphere of Songhyul’s headquarters. With tight security and ample amenities, it was said to be a favored meeting spot for celebrities and prominent figures from politics and business.

Yejun’s eyes sparkled as he marveled at the grand interior.

“The monthly rent here is 20 million won, and the maintenance fee is 5 million, they say. The CEO supposedly kicked out all the tenants to use one building as a dormitory for actors. His family is a real estate tycoon with hundreds of buildings. If it were me, I’d just live off the rent.”

“No wonder it felt like we were visiting the company for fun—it wasn’t just my imagination.”

“You can definitely sense the wealth, right? For a rich guy, he seemed surprisingly innocent.”

While searching for a decent restaurant, Yejun talked about Cha Yilhyun and the buildings he owned. Though too scared to read articles about himself, Yejun seemed to have looked up quite a bit about the CEO.

The first-floor lobby, housing restaurants, a convenience store, a salon, and more, was a sleek and modern commercial space. At the end, a lit-up theater came into view. Yejun stopped in his tracks, awestruck.

“I’ve only seen it on Inoh’s SNS, but it really looks like a movie theater! The screen is huge, and they say they have tens of thousands of movies…”

“Since we’re here, why don’t we watch a movie? Maybe one of your works is in there, Yejun.”

“Even if there is, my face barely shows up, so what’s the point?”

Yejun gave a wry smile.

“I thought if I took every role in movies or dramas, my dad would come find me, but they all flopped, got pulled after a week, or ended early… Am I cursed?”

Yejun seemed to resent yet miss the father who had abandoned him. Serving masters had exposed Seok Ryu to many unfamiliar emotions, but the love-hate relationship with family was the strangest. He wondered if he himself had a family in his past life and, if so, what it was like.

“Forget it. Let’s go upstairs and eat some ramen.”

The excitement didn’t last long. Yejun, sensing an unwelcoming atmosphere, grew quieter. The previous night, loud thumping and music from upstairs had nearly driven Seok Ryu to a nervous breakdown. He thought it was typical noise, but as it intensified, he realized it was targeted at Yejun. If Yejun hadn’t stopped him, he would have stormed upstairs.

“These people will end up serving you, so there’s no need to mind them.”

Whether staff or celebrities, they’d have to submit to Director Kwak’s decisions, so their complaints could be dismissed as temporary. The real problem was that CEO.

Seeing Yejun tap his leg nervously, Seok Ryu led him to a fountain in the middle of the lobby—a stone ship spraying water energetically.

“I’ll go buy something to drink, so please sit here for a bit.”

💎

Using the money Yejun gave him, Seok Ryu searched for a place to buy drinks. Turning a corner in the lobby, he spotted a vending machine at the entrance to a gym. Everyone in line was engrossed in their phones, oblivious to others. They all had faces familiar from movies or dramas. As Seok Ryu approached the machine, people’s gazes slowly turned toward him.

The power of the garnet only worked when he succeeded in the bonding ritual with his master. Thus, Seok Ryu never assumed people’s kindness was directed at him personally. Sometimes, when he was cast into the world without a bonding ritual, he wondered how he appeared in others’ eyes.

A woman with her hair tied up took her drink and left. The man behind her, when his turn came, pulled a wallet from his back pocket. He wore a gray tracksuit and a hoodie pulled low. Seok Ryu cut in front, inserting a bill. Just as he was about to press the water button, the man grabbed his hand. A sharp gaze glinted from under the large hood.

“Can’t you see the line?”

“I see it.”

That’s why he was hurrying. He couldn’t keep his master waiting in an unfamiliar place. Seok Ryu shook off the man’s hand and reached for the water button again. The man slapped his hand over the button first, his brow casting a deep shadow.

“Who cuts in line so shamelessly?”

The people in line muttered timidly.

“He looks like he’s in a rush—just let him go first…”

“Someone with time could just yield. No need to be so strict.”

Unintentionally, a few people seemed swayed to Seok Ryu’s side. Ignoring their comments, the man yanked Seok Ryu’s bill from the return slot, crumpled it, and threw it. Stunned, Seok Ryu glared at him. Upon recognizing the man’s face, his eyes widened.

The hoodie had obscured his view, but it was Lee Taeon, the actor. As a Songhyul exclusive, it wasn’t surprising to run into him here. The most memorable films Seok Ryu had watched at the workshop all starred Lee Taeon.

Lee Taeon was an actor who had achieved blockbuster success across genres. He’d won Best Actor at international film festivals twice, showcasing genius-level acting, and was currently the sole persona of director Choi Chanki. Infamous for assaulting staff and fans and drunk driving, his personality was as notorious as his talent. Most importantly, he was the actor Yejun admired most in the world.

Seok Ryu had nearly committed a grave offense against someone Yejun revered. In such cases, he’d ask his master’s permission before adding someone to the follower list, but most preferred exclusion.

When Seok Ryu stepped back willingly, Lee Taeon scowled, opened his wallet, and swiped a card on the machine, still wary. Moments later, a water bottle and a soda fell into the dispenser. Lee Taeon grabbed the soda and left. Seok Ryu silently stared at the water bottle left behind.

💎

When Lee Taeon entered the theater, a monster was smashing buildings on the giant screen. Cha Yilhyun, seated in the center, was so engrossed in the film he didn’t notice the absence of others.

Even after signing with Songhyul, Lee Taeon and Cha Yilhyun remained distant. Both being film buffs, they’d had heated clashes over control of this theater. Only Lee Taeon had the audacity to kick down the door when the Songhyul CEO monopolized it. But with little age difference and similar tastes in movies, they’d reached a temporary truce.

Lee Taeon tapped Cha Yilhyun’s chair with his slipper-clad foot. Cha Yilhyun, turning a beat late, glanced at the soda can in Lee Taeon’s hand.

“Where’s mine?”

“If you’re thirsty, buy your own.”

Lee Taeon pointedly sipped his drink, glancing at the screen. Watching a movie he’d seen dozens of times made him nauseous. The nausea brought on hunger.

“I’m hungry. Let’s eat some ramen.”

“Why would I eat ramen with you, Lee Taeon?”

Cha Yilhyun, absorbed in the film, replied indifferently.

“Suit yourself.”

Lee Taeon nonchalantly walked out.

💎

When Seok Ryu returned to the fountain, Yejun looked like he was sitting on thorns. Seok Ryu approached and said abruptly,

“I just met Lee Taeon at the vending machine.”

“For real?!”

“This is the water Lee Taeon bought.”

Yejun jumped up, accepting the bottle with both hands. Seok Ryu held out another.

“I bought a separate one for you to drink. I thought you’d want to keep the one Lee Taeon got.”

“Good job! Did you get his autograph?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think that far…”

While Yejun took a photo of Lee Taeon’s “gift,” Seok Ryu went ahead to hold the elevator.

“Hey, give me that phone.”

Hearing the voice, Seok Ryu turned. A flashy group of men and women surrounded Yejun, glaring menacingly. Jo Namheon and Kim Jiyul were among them. Yejun, face stiff, quickly bowed.

“Uh, hello! Seniors!”

“‘Seniors,’ huh? No need for greetings—just hand over the phone!”

Jo Namheon scowled. A small, delicate man stepped forward—Kim Kyubin.

“You were filming us earlier, weren’t you? We came here to avoid paparazzi and stalkers, and now some vermin is causing trouble?”

Actors passing through the lobby gathered at the sudden commotion. Yejun, paling, waved his hands.

“No, no! I’d never film you, seniors! Just the water bottle…”

“Who’s your senior?!”

“I’m Park Yejun’s manager. Talk to me.”

Seok Ryu stepped in front of Yejun, facing them. The group of actors widened their eyes and stepped back. Jo Namheon snatched Yejun’s phone and began rifling through it, which hadn’t locked yet.

“Whatever, I’ll check it myself—hand it over!”

“Give it back!”

Yejun screamed and lunged, but the group blocked him. Suddenly, Jo Namheon twisted his lips.

“Hey, look at this.”

The actors checking the phone burst into mocking laughter.

“What the— isn’t this our CEO? How many photos does he have? Ugh, creepy!”

“Don’t look! Please, don’t look!!”

As Yejun’s scream echoed, Seok Ryu’s rationality snapped. He slapped Jo Namheon’s face repeatedly. Yejun kept photos of things he cherished, and no one was allowed to insult his dreams. Jo Namheon yelped and stumbled back, shouting furiously.

“Hey, where’s our manager?!”

As Seok Ryu raised his hand again, something unexpected happened. Yejun pushed him aside and bowed repeatedly to Jo Namheon’s group.

“I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

Jo Namheon hurriedly returned the phone to Seok Ryu. The troublemakers and onlookers slunk away. Seok Ryu memorized each person who had insulted his master, vowing to make them crawl before Yejun as slaves. Calming his rage, he handed the phone back to Yejun. His master, dazed, trembled with a vacant expression.

“Why did you hit him?! We could’ve apologized and moved on! What if the company finds out? What if we really get kicked out of the officetel…?”

“They were the ones who were rude first—you have no reason to apologize. If the company handles this unfairly, we don’t need them either.”

“The world might be easy for you, but I’m betting my life on this!!”

Yejun’s shout echoed through the lobby. Startled by his own voice, he shrank back. No matter the reason, if the master said it was wrong, it was wrong. Seok Ryu, with a heavy heart, bowed to Yejun.

“My words were too careless. I’m sorry.”

The master, so adept at apologizing, seemed unaccustomed to receiving apologies. Yejun stared at his feet before walking to the elevator. Back at the officetel, Seok Ryu delivered the recently persuaded Jo Namheon to Yejun. But Yejun, gripped by fear, only sobbed. What a way to make an entrance.

💎

“Is he really gone?”

Inoh suddenly announced he was coming for a housewarming. Yejun sent Seok Ryu out for a bit and welcomed the guest. When Inoh arrived, he wore dark sunglasses. Yejun neatly arranged the sneakers Inoh tossed off before following him inside.

“It doesn’t work on you, so don’t worry.”

“You never know with people. Tell your staff not to mess with mine.”

“Got it…”

Inoh finally took off his sunglasses and sat on the chestnut leather sofa. He looked like an elf who’d slipped and fallen into chocolate. His beauty suggested Sanho was doing fine too. Despite making a fuss about the housewarming, Inoh came empty-handed. He pouted his red, plump lips.

“Manager Byun’s handling you, right? His personality’s trash, but he’s got directors and PDs under control, so do well. But Director Kwak’s a bit off. Even when I debuted, they didn’t assign me a manager-level staff.”

“You’ve got Manager Jang.”

Yejun scratched the back of his head, chuckling. Though treated like a servant now, Manager Jang had nurtured Inoh from his rookie days. Did people change like that with success? Yejun used to be close with Inoh, but now just being around him felt awkward.

Inoh didn’t seem to know Yejun’s contract had been rejected. Plus, on the first day of moving in, Seok Ryu had slapped Jo Namheon. If the contract fell through completely, Yejun worried Inoh might demand he repay debts. He knew Seok Ryu’s half-success rate meant obstacles were due, but why now, of all times?

When his collection of the CEO’s photos was exposed earlier, Yejun wanted to sink into the ground. He’d saved them absentmindedly while reading Cha Yilhyun’s interviews. Even as mere photos, they exuded a captivating energy. Meeting Cha Yilhyun in person, he didn’t seem like the “psycho trash” people described.

Lost in thought, Yejun noticed Inoh glaring at him slyly. Feeling guilty, he shrank back.

“What? What?”

“You’ve got a guest, and you’re not offering a drink?”

“Oh, hold on…”

Yejun jumped up and brought cookies and drinks from the dining table.

“You said you like cookies, so Seok Ryu made these. They’re worth their price, seriously.”

Yejun bit his lip, feeling he sounded too materialistic.

“You think people go crazy for luxury for no reason? Well, that Seok Ryu or whatever is more like a knockoff.”

Inoh sneered, taking a bite of a cookie. His eyes widened. Yejun had made the same face when he first tried Seok Ryu’s cookies. For Inoh, who had to nurse a fragile black pearl, receiving a guardian stone’s care was an unthinkable luxury. Yejun felt a swell of pride.

Looking back, since Seok Ryu arrived, Yejun hadn’t cooked a single meal himself. Seok Ryu handled everything, sparing him from any dirty work. People started gathering around him, like moths to a flame—or to Seok Ryu. Maybe he was a guardian angel sent by his mother from heaven.

Inoh daintily brushed cookie crumbs from his fingers and offered a belated pleasantry.

“You’ve finally made it. How’s it feel to settle into Songhyul Castle?”

“Surreal, I guess… It’s all thanks to you.”

“Good you know. Without me, when would you ever live in a place like this for free?”

“Yeah…”

Inoh looked at Yejun with pity.

“Don’t get too comfortable. If that psycho doesn’t see results in a year, he’ll kick you out.”

“The CEO has to think about running the company.”

“You still don’t get it? Do you know how narcissistic that guy is? He acts like a magnanimous patron laying the groundwork for creators, but if his projects flop, he destroys directors and actors’ mental states. Some directors and actors he’s worked with have even threatened suicide.”

Yejun, flustered, lowered his eyes. He’d heard Cha Yilhyun’s reputation was polarizing. But claims that he drove actors or directors to extremes were probably exaggerations. In this cutthroat industry, those people were just too weak to survive.

“But Inoh, your results were good—why’d you get kicked out of the officetel?”

“What nonsense? I left on my own because I was sick of running into that psycho.”

“Running into him?”

“You didn’t know? The psycho lives in the penthouse here.”

Yejun’s spine chilled. Now he understood why security warned them to steer clear of the penthouse.

“Seok Ryu’s out there!”

Yejun leapt up, scrambling. They hadn’t even gotten contract approval, and if the CEO found out they’d moved into the officetel, who knew what trouble would follow. He prayed Seok Ryu hadn’t caught Cha Yilhyun’s eye.